


Separated (but not far apart)

by sammyspreadyourwings



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bonding, Escape, Established Relationship, Forced Marriage, Imprisonment, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Riding, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-27 20:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21398086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyspreadyourwings/pseuds/sammyspreadyourwings
Summary: After Brian becomes a runaway prince thanks to John's help, the rumors get it wrong. A few years later Brian and John are separated and all they want is to get back to each other.
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor, John Deacon/Brian May
Comments: 29
Kudos: 71
Collections: Breaky Week





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Breaky Week! That is all.  
Enjoy  
Prompt: Slamming Doors

Brian blinks as he is brought from the dark interior of the ship. His skin glows an angry red as the two bounty hunters drag him from the landing bay to the castle. He wants to fight, but cotton fills his head and he feels as though there is iron in his limbs.

He isn’t quite sure why he wants to fight, just that he does. His boots scuff against the ground because he isn’t walking. Brian gets tossed to one bounty hunters, four arms wrap around his torso, as the first one knocks on the door.

The door opens and once more he is plunged into darkness. Only for a few seconds as the automatic lights kick on. He winces as the hum of the generator grates against his ears. Quickly the annoyance fades and he is numb again.

Although he probably shouldn’t be.

A man steps forward. It takes a second to realize that Brian is staring at his father. In the years that he hasn’t been to his home moon, his father has turned gray with only a few stripes of the dark hair Brian remembers. Heavily bearded and heavier set.

“Is that supposed to be my son?”

“It is,” Bounty Hunter #1 says.

Bounty Hunter #2 lifts his arm and yanks back his sleeve revealing the spiraling blue lines of the May Line. His father steps back, grasping his chest. Fear curls in his belly before it is swept under the current of numbness.

“What’s been done to him?”

“The Smuggler. The man he was with, we’ve taken him to Moth 9C. He kept him drugged and chained to the ship.”

Brian stares at the floor. No! They’re lying. John hadn’t! The bounty hunters had – the fight slips away. He drops and Bounty Hunter #2 lets him rest on his knees. He stares at the white tiled floor and is enchanted by the tiny flecks of purple.

“That so?” Harold strides forward.

He feels the heavy steps vibrate up his bones. Brian’s head is lifted. In his father’s eyes he sees anger and relief and other emotions he doesn’t care to name.

“Hope you loved your taste of freedom, boy. You’ll see that he was no good for you.”

Harold drops Brian’s head and turns to the first Bounty Hunter, “is there an antidote?”

“Yes,” he digs through his belt and hands it over.

“Good, good.”

Brian looks up when he hears the clicking of fingers. Two guards step forward. He vaguely remembers one to be called Jobby. They take his arms from the Bounty Hunter’s four.

“Your Imperialness,” Jobby bows, “when do we administer the antidote?”

“When you get him to his room. He likes to run off with the doves.”

Jobby bites his lip and bows. Ah, yeah. They had been companions once. Jobby his man-at-arms, now only a guard. Had he caused that when he left? Brian does not know. The curiosity slips away.

“Hm,” Harold raises an eyebrow.

“Ah,” Bounty Hunter #1 says, “I believe you offered a reward for your Stolen Prince.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Harold snaps his fingers again, “follow my steward, they’ll make sure you get what is due to you. Extra for taking care of that smuggler”

John! Brian’s mind screams. He wants to sob, but the tears don’t come.

The two guards carrying him through the secret halls of the castle. Known only to those who must know of them. Jobby’s grip is gentle on his arms, while the other guard doesn’t seem to care about the purple light glimmering through his thin tunic.

Soon enough, he knows he will be dressed in thick fabrics to hide the light away. They deposit him in his old room. Brian watches the projector flick on, bathing the room in the hologram of the galaxy. He searches and just under Merca 7, he sees Moth 9C. He does the math. John is seven space jumps away.

Jobby guides him to his bed. Brian sits as he was forced to do on the shuttle here. He looks up at Jobby when he feels the finger on his chin.

“I am so sorry,” he says.

Brian doesn’t understand why. He feels something pinch in his neck and liquid heat flows through his veins. He drops backward, scratching at his throat before the fog lifts. When he sits back up Jobby is gone. He throws the pillow against the wall and cannot believe how stupid he had been.

_John’s hands are behind his back. His teeth are digging into his bottom lip, enough to draw blood. The bounty hunter pushes John to his knees. Brian fights against the hold, his boots digging into the soft mood. He screams and lashes out with his foot, but the bounty hunter holds fast._

_It looks like John is holding back tears. Then he starts shaking his head, yelling though the drowning rain. Brian doesn’t understand until he feels a pinch in his neck. Ice rushes through his veins making his limbs feel as though they are made from iron. The fight stops and he drops his head._

_John screams louder. His voice breaking._

Because of him, John was. _No one _escapes Moth 9C. Brian curls up on his bed. It is asking a lot that the Seraphs would allow John to live out his sentence rather than execute him on the spot. His only prayer is that his father never learns the Smuggler’s identity.

The tablet next to his bed chirps before projecting an image of his mother’s lady-in-waiting, “her imperialness requests your presence for dinner. TAILOR BOT – W3T will assist with the preparation.”

Brian waves the hologram away. He isn’t hungry. After a moment he swings his legs over the side of the bed. His window is covered by bars and Brian can hear the faint sound of a forcefield. He pushes the bookend, but it only slides on the track and does not open the way to the secret passage.

The main entryway to his room is sure to be guarded. Brian drops to the floor more than willing to allow himself to waste away here. It’s less uncomfortable than wasting away on the throne of a moon he no longer loves.

_Fwump. _Brian looks up as the bot tube opens and the tailor bot rolls away and pops up onto spindly legs. W3T’s legs click on the tile, scanning for his presence. His eyes dart back to the tube. The opening is only now closing. Maybe? He had been able to fit well enough as a child, there were several meters of clearance even.

W3T pulls him up to his feet. He closes his eyes at the blinding light of the scanner. Snipping and tearing echoes in the silence of the room. Brian shivers as his old clothes are cut off. Layers of fabric begin draping over him. They’re soft and well made. He looks down to see that he’s dressed in the dark seafoam green and gray of his princeship and the red sash of the Empire is draped across his chest.

The cloak is tossed onto a hanger first and then hung up with a tendril from W3T. He sees the beautiful dead star diamond broach. Brian looks at himself in the mirror as W3T finishes threading his outer skirt. As he stares the box flips out of the desk and reveals his crown. The band is laced with the purple Soul-Stone and forged with supernova-steel.

Ah. So it’s one of _those _dinners.

W3T finishes. Its screen flashes a satisfied: ^w^, before climbing up the wall and opening the bot tube. Brian sighs and checks the reservation on the tablet to see how long he has before the dinner. Only three more ticks. If he didn’t go, what would happen?

There is a solid rap at his door, “Imperial highness, I am here to escort you.”

Brian snorts. So he doesn’t get the chance. He ignores the crown but grabs the cloak. If he is forced to attend, then perhaps he could be able to do something productive with his time.

Jobby stands outside the door with a grimace. Brian nods and shrugs off the hand of the guard.

“I can walk myself, thank you,” Brian snaps.

Bile rises in his throat. He slipped so easily into the “Prince Voice” John often accused him of having. Jobby reaches out his hand to prevent the guard from grabbing at him again. They walk in silence, a few servants (the few non-bots they allow in the castle) gossip to each other as he passes.

Calling him the “Stolen Prince” or the “Kidnapped Prince” he presses his lips firmly together. He wishes he could correct them, but it would spell a worse sentence for John.

The feats hall is blessedly empty. A few BUTLER bots roll around straightening the silverware. Brian picks at the hem of his ruffled sleeve, managing to rip part of the decorative stitch. As he nears his place, to the right of the Emperor, his mother and father step out of wherever it was they were waiting.

Where is father has grayed and gained weight his mother has lost weight but kept the dark hair of his childhood. She smiles and he sees where her eyes have rimmed-red from tears. Brian swallows the guilt. He wishes everything could have been different.

“My boy,” she hugs him.

His face lights up pink under her hands. They kiss each other’s cheeks before hugging. Ruth’s grip is tight, and Brian doesn’t know if he even matched the intensity. He pulls away at the three chimes of dinner. Harold pulls out Ruth’s chair before stepping in front of his.

Brian sits down seconds before his father does. Ruth purses her lips but doesn’t say anything. He also doesn’t dip his fingers into the water bowl when the first course is served.

“We’ll have to have you tutored, I see,” Harold says.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve lost your manners,” Ruth says calmly, “likely because you’ve been running around who knows where these past cycles.”

Brian bites his cheek.

“I’ll put in for a tutor at once,” Harold claps his hand.

One of the stewards steps forward. Each step quick and precise hands held tightly in front of her, and tendrils pressed flat against her head. Brian vaguely remembers that when he left, she had been in training. How quickly she rose through the ranks.

“Send for a tutor,” Harold orders.

“Yes, your Imperialness, right away.”

She taps her heels as she spins away. Brian snorts. Ruth tightens her pursed lips as she scolds him with her eyes. Brian straightens his back. Their conversation is interrupted by the arrival of the first course. His stomach growls, but he doesn’t make a move to eat it. The Puqeo still wiggles on top of the salad. He gags and shoves it away from him.

“Whatever is the matter? Ruth sets her fork and knife down.

“I won’t eat a formerly or still living creature,” Brian says.

He keeps his teeth grit together for fear of getting sick. Brian gestures for the BUTLER bot to take the plate away from him. Harold sighs.

“You had the luxury to be picky while you were with that Smuggler?”

Brian keeps his lips pressed tightly together. He swallows and breathes through his nose. His father makes eye contact as he places a piece of the Puqeo in his mouth. Brian closes his eyes and covers his ears.

Thankfully it seems that his parents take pity on him and have their first course cleared away only half-eaten. Brian lets out a long breath. The next course is brought out then. It appears to be the main piece.

“We figured you’d be tired,” Ruth says, “the real welcome home dinner is tomorrow.”

Brian stares, “no.”

“Brian, we have to make sure the people know it's you.”

Harold clears his throat, “it doesn’t matter. Our presence is expected at the Alpha Icarius Gala.”

He drops his silverware, “Father!”

“No, Brian, it must be done. We’ve been without an heir for many cycles now, Imillia is making moves to seize the throne.”

Brian shakes his head, “did you even care that I was gone? Or were you waiting until my return is convenient for you?”

“Do not accuse me of not missing my son,” Harold growls, “the fact that your return is convenient is a blessing by the stars.”

Brian shovels the stew into his mouth. There is an odd tang to it that makes him think that they’re using older vegetables. Ruth sips on hers before dabbing her mouth with a napkin.

“We won’t hold you to marrying a princess, but you must find someone to court.”

“It isn’t that easy! You can’t just know who it is you’d want to spend your life with.”

_Especially when you’ve already found them._

Harold raises an eyebrow, “have something to say?”

Brian shakes his head.

“Because the bounty hunters explained quite a bit to me.”

He freezes and then continues to eat as nothing has happened. The bounty hunters saw and heard nothing. Brian knows they hadn’t. John was never that careless when they were in the cities for moments like this.

“If he truly loved you, he would have bonded you.”

Brian bites down on the spoon and winces at the ache in his teeth. John does love him, truly and deeply. The made an oath to it. They hadn’t bonded because… well Brian never understood why they hadn’t bonded.

“He was using you, dear,” Ruth says, “but now you can find someone who would at least be honest about it.”  
When he attempts to stand, the ground pitches underneath him. Brian catches himself on the table, panting heavily as the ornate tablecloth blurs in front of him. He looks up to see his father looking away in shame.

“What have you done?”

“I have to make sure you don’t run off again. It is for your own good.”

Brian stares.

“It’s only a mild sedative. You’ll be awake before you know it.”

Brian feels hands wrap around him. Jobby is holding him upright, looking livid. He presses a hand against his mouth to keep himself from losing whatever he just ate. His hand drops to the side as his brain becomes fuzzy.

Jobby and another guard drag him back to his room using the secret passageways. Once more he is dropped against the bed. W3T scales down the wall and towards him, pulling off his shoes and trousers. He is dimly aware of Jobby being pulled from the room and the door slamming shut.

Brian sobs once before he falls into the darkness.

* * *

John winces as his palms are cut from stopping his face from hitting the stone. He pushes himself and launches himself towards the door. It slams closed and John barely stops himself from hurtling into the buzzing forcefield. Not that it would hurt him, but best not to tip his hand.

He watches the guard and bounty hunter walk away, laughing at the news of the Stolen Prince being found. John sinks to his knees, curing in his mother tongue. They had gotten careless. He had gotten careless.

Brian’s smile wraps around him. Encouraging him to continue fighting and thinking. He might be lost on a comet, but Brian still needs him.

_The Prince always sits alone midday. John knows he should move from this moon, but he can’t stop himself from perching on the wall watching Sorix’s Prince hum and play an odd-looking guitar. He should feel disgusted at the Prince, they’ve done nothing for his people. Except Brian always looks so sad and looks at the wall as though he’d rather be on the other side of it._

“You okay there, mate?”

John jumps and twists, nearly throwing himself into the forcefield. He squints and barely illuminated by the forcefield is another, at the very least masculine, person in the back of the room. To his surprise he sees blue light catch in blond hair. What the hell was their crime if they were here and not in one of the red-light districts?

“Yeah… I…”

“Yes, I’m blond,” the man says, “and no, I’m not some kind of war criminal. Technically.”

John stares. _Technically?_

“Subversion of the Throne, from a royal.”

He tilts his head. None of the royals have any blond descendent. John can see the golden sash over purple silk clothing. It’s torn and muddy and he can see where the prisoner tore off part of his shirt to wrap an apparent wound on his arm.

“Prince-Consort, not a royal by blood, thank the stars.”

“Ah.”

“Same deal?” The prisoner tilts his head.

“Subversion, but I’m not anywhere near to being a royal.”

“The name is Roger. I’m a Stel, so masculine pronouns and all that, not that I care so much.”

A blond Stel in prison. John raises an eyebrow. Clearly, he has enemies in high places, if being the Prince-Consort couldn’t save him.

“John. Masculine.”

Roger nods, “so, how’d they finally catch you, Prince Thief?”

His jaw drops. How in the twenty moons does Roger know why he is here?

“Everyone is talking about His Imperial Highness Brian May being a guest at the Alpha Icarius. Been the gossip of the courts for months. And you’re the only one that’s been brought in on Subversion,” Roger grins, “I may be blond, but that’s why people speak around me.”

“The Alpha Icarius?”

Roger rolls his eyes, “big fancy party. Most of the royals get engaged or promised to be engaged. Seriously how’d you still the Imperial Prince?”

“I didn’t,” John spits.

“So you stole him from the actual thief?” Roger’s voice drops, “or did you buy him?”

John surges forward, pressing Roger against the wall. Roger fights back, but he can’t manage to land a solid enough blow or John to make him drop him.

“I would never hurt Brian.”

“Ah, so he is a runaway.”

He drops Roger and stalks to the other side of the cell. Roger tugs on the nonexistent collar of his shirt and flatten out the wrinkles. John crosses his arms and drops to the ground.

“So I take you’ve bonded with him?”

“Bonded? What do you mean?”

Roger snorts and drops to the ground crossing his legs, “you’re an Eideas. Can’t hide that.”

John stares. Roger gestures towards his neck where John had touched him.

“You’re only half Stel.”

“Yep,” Roger smirks, “but I’m sure the Emperor is going to be less than thrilled to learn that he can’t marry off his only heir.”

“I didn’t,” John says softly.

“Wait. Why not?” Roger tilts his head, “I felt how deeply you loved him. I thought –”

“And bind him to me forever?” John sighs.

“If I could do that, bond with Freddie, I would in heartbeat.”

John looks up at the name. It sounds familiar. Golden sash and purple silk. Brian must have mentioned it before.

“He turns gold, does he not?” Roger asks.

He closes his eyes, remembering the night that he skimmed his fingers just under Brian’s eyes, he’s never seen such a shade before when the ship lit up. Nearly as bright as the sun.

“I didn’t,” John says, “I didn’t bond him. I thought that we wouldn’t need such a declaration.”

Roger snorts, “if you can make it permanent, you must.”

John looks at Roger. He sees the bright blue eyes looking towards the door. Freddie must have given him the title of Prince-Consort thinking it’s enough. Even the Alphas respect a bond like his. He should have. Once more it becomes startling clear about how much of this is his fault.

Brian would be worthless to the Emperor if he had. John couldn’t be the one to take away Brian’s choice. He does need to get back to Brian though.

“Where is this Alpha Icarius?”

“It’s held on Alpha One,” Roger replies, “which is, well what planet did you pass on your descent?”

“One of the Merca, I think.”

Roger straightens, “that close?”

He looks down at the concrete, worrying his bottom lip. John looks towards the forcefield.

“Do you know where Alpha One is?”

“Yes, not that it matters.”

“What if I got us out of here?”

“Out of Moth 9C? The escape-proof comet?”

“Yes.”

Roger blinks and then slowly starts to smile, “well, I’d be daft to say no to a ticket to freedom.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: Gifts

Brian has yet to figure out how his father kept slipping in sedatives when he has been careful to not eat or drink anything. Perhaps that might be part of the reason, but by the time he arrives at his loaned room at night he passes out on his bed. It might also be the stress of being careful to not give the appearance of accepting a gift.

The princess he just rejected storms away, her golden cloak trailing behind her and the blade she offered, well crafted and made from the gems mined from the earth. The entire blade had been dead star diamond. Worth more than their ship and all the bots inside. Brian desperate misses Spidey and how it would curl up between them.

He refuses to accept any gift. There are many who have tried, but more who chase the story of his months in captivity and how traumatized he must be. Even if Brian had been treated poorly, he would not have disclosed his adventure.

A Stel girl, wearing a dark pink stash sways towards him, arms loaded with tech. Brian turns around before she catches his eye. This girl has been giving her attention to anyone that she could see.

“Well, as the planets revolve.”

Brian looks to the side to see Freddie leaning against a pillar with a wine glass in one hand and a train of people following him. He smiles, relieved to see a friendly face.

“And the stars shine,” Brian walks over.

They greet each other by kissing each other on the cheek. Freddie hugs him and Brian breathes the spicy scent in deeply. He claps Freddie on the back before disengaging. Careful to measure the length to stop rumors. He misses the days where he and John’s only goal was to cuddle each other as much as possible.

“How have you been?” Freddie asks.

“I – I cannot say without causing offense,” Brian whispers.

Freddie grips his hand, “then we must catch up.”

He follows behind Freddie hiding his cheeks behind his hair as he hears the whispers begin.

“I think this may have been ill-thought.”

“If they aren’t talking about you, you haven’t done this right,” Freddie grins, “give me a moment to captivate the Stolen Prince.”

Brian grimaces. Freddie waits until the door slides open and then they rush down the hallway. The noise of the gala cut off. He lets out a sigh of relief and Freddie guides them until they reach a sitting room.

“Command: No Entry.”

The computer chimes and Brian practically drops to the couch. Freddie crawls on top of him once he tosses his outside robes to the side.

“Now, my dear,” Freddie whispers.

Brian looks around the room. Someone is –

“Where is Roger?”

Freddie’s face falls, “Moth 9C.”

Brian sits up, “why?”

“One of the councilor’s hands. I have no doubt. They claim he beguiled me with his looks and talent.”

“No.”

“I believe he is alive.”

Brian tugs Freddie to his chest, “he is. Roger would dare not leave you alone.”

“I’ll never forgive him if he has.”

He kisses Freddie on the crown of his head. Freddie sighs and loosens the cape currently strangling Brian.

“Tell me what happened, love.”

“John, he, well firstly, he stole me with my permission,” Brian says.

“Of course he has,” Freddie grins, “you sounded as though he promised you every star.”

“Secondly it is he who turns my skin gold.”

Freddie reaches up and touches Brian’s face. Orange light shimmers against Freddie’s palm.

“Truly? John was an Eideas, was he not?”

“We aren’t bonded,” Brian mumbles, “even father would stop this madness.”

Freddie tuts and strokes Brian’s curls. They sit in silence for a moment. Soon enough they will have to go back before the guards or worse parents come after them. Brian crosses his legs underneath him.

“I am running out of excuses,” Brian sighs, “I’m the most approached at this gala, and yet I’ve accepted no one.”

Freddie’s hand curls around his neck. Brian closes his eyes fighting back the tears. There has never been a royal leaving the AI without having made a match. He fears what would happen if he becomes the first to do so. Freddie tugs on a curl and then splits it apart and forms a thin braid. Brian closes his eyes at the sensation.

“I have an idea.”

Brian frowns, “what’s that? We can’t run away.”

“Tomorrow I will need you to play along.”

“Freddie, what are you thinking?”

“That we are each other’s solution.”

Brian nods. He still doesn’t understand what Freddie is thinking. There is a pinch on his neck again. He winces and his hand flies up to the spot. Freddie leans back with a tiny device in his hands.

“I imagine, this will make things clearer.”

Brian looks at the device. It was a medication dispenser. He scowls and tosses it to the side. Its Bounty Hunter tech. His father never removed it.

“I cannot believe,” Brian murmurs.

Freddie kisses him on the cheek, “trust me?”

“Always.”

He stands with Freddie, “let your skin dim, darling, and then go enjoy the party. Just don’t begin courting anyone.”

Brian snorts, “never.”

“That’s the spirit.”

* * *

Brian spends most of the night tossing and turning. The palace is too filled with life. He misses the quiet hum of the engine under him. John had been the only sentient-mortal he has slept with for a long time. They had been - are - each other’s world.

Maybe they should have made more stable connections. John’s people only need their Other. Brian had assumed that was his place.

_He would have bonded you._

Brian shakes his head. John loved him. bond or no. _Loves _him, John is alive. It wouldn’t take much to grease the palms of the officials in charge of sentencing. It’ll take a much longer time for their reunion, but he will be able to win the trust back from his father. Next time he runs away it’ll be to the other end of the system. Stars, he’ll find Solarix’s moon if he must. Brian closes his eyes and thinks about John draped in Asterity blossoms, wearing a proper courting sash. 

The amber sky of Salaris grays and the image of John smiling shatters. Brian screams and sits up. He rushes to the balcony and stones at the starlight-city light of Icarius. The city where any dream comes true. Brian craves the anonymity of the city.

Down there, no one cares that he is the Imperial Prince. They barely care he is alive. If only they were in the palace. It glides silently over the capital. The nearest destination death if he falls.

He presses his palm. A tiny ripple spreads through the force field. Brian wonders how many others had the same hope as him. To marry their heart and not for gain.

Freddie, he knows, would only take another with Roger’s permission and if he could keep Roger too. Brian sighs and turns his gaze skyward. He had loved both of them once but feared his father’s reaction.

Clearly a wise choice.

His eyes drift towards where he thinks Moth 9C should be. So far away that the light doesn’t reach. Brian leans down to press his forehead against his fist. The railing is unnaturally warm. He turns his head and spots the force field generator. Portable and semi-hidden.

Brian presses his lips together. Are they preventing a daring rescue or a desperate escape? Brian smiles bitterly, maybe another Prince-napping?

He watches the stars until the first sunrise swallows them. They should be nearing the first star-solar eclipse of the season Brian has never actually seen one. The AI ends on it, now that he thinks about it.

Maybe it will be the only good thing to happen to him in this forsaken palace.

* * *

Brian drops against the wall. The heir of - well he doesn’t know where they were from - had been the most determined yet. He is running short on time and he still doesn’t have a plan.

“Your highness?”

Brian bites his cheek about to berate Freddie for using his title. He turns and sees a beautiful silvered Asterity blossom. Freddie presents it with a bow. Growing up, he had hoped for this moment. Now it makes him sick. How could Freddie ask this of him? How can he consider betraying John? Freddie knows - what about Roger?

He stares at the flower. It’s mocking Freddie nods. Well, he had asked Brian to trust him. His head is rushing and air leaves his chest. Slowly he takes the blossom with a shaking hand.

Freddie captures his hand and kisses the back of it. An expected breach of decorum.

Brian has accepted Freddie’s proposal and he wants to cry. He has to believe Freddie is the same as he is. 

He looks around at the crowd staring at him. They’ve just united the system’s two most powerful nations. No wonder the room has gone silent.

He barely remembers to unfurl the courting sash for Freddie to take. It clashes terribly with Freddie’s purple and gold vestments. Brian knows the blue-gray fabric would look better on John.

_Forgive me, please._

* * *

The day is warm. Delicate pink and yellow flowers rustle in the trees above him. Brian hums as he feels the breeze tickles his bare skin. John’s thighs are his pillow, and he wishes that they could do this at night when he can see the stars. His father won’t have it. It isn’t a bad exchange seeing John’s gray eyes catch the light and brighten like the stars himself.

“What do they call you?”

Brian raises an eyebrow. John has stopped playing with his hair to ask the question. He tilts his head back to keep John’s hand moving.

“You know my name and titles.”

John rolls his eyes, “no, your friends.”

“Fred and Rog call me Brimi,” Brian tilts his head.

John has plenty of names he calls Brian and cores nothing for other royals. The curiosity is strange. John pulls out a tablet the shape of an Identification Screen, its the type meant for universal travel. He whines when John’s hand moves fully from his head. Now he feels ignored.

Brian pouts when John looks down at him. He bites his lip, and it makes Bian sit up at the surge of nervousness and longing. His stomach twists and he grabs John’s wrist. His palm lights up gold and the nervousness ebbs away from the air.

“I know you’re supposed to give a fancy gift worth more than a galactic cruiser,” John says, “but I can’t.”

“Gift for what?”

John presses a finger against his lips. Golden light highlights John’s features. He places a kiss against John’s knuckle.

“The only _courting _gift I can offer you is a way off this moon.”

Brian blinks.

John rubs the back of his neck, “it isn’t a lot. When we are away from this moon, I can save up charges from odd jobs to give you a proper one.”

He leans forward and grabs John’s face, he makes sure the gray eyes are on him before speaking.

“John, you’re offering me my freedom. A life I want to live. That is my own. With you. There is nothing more that I desire. Nothing more valuable.”

Slowly the gap between John’s teeth is revealed and his eyes crinkle. Brian mirrors the smile, keeping his eyes open as John shuts his in bliss.

“Is that an acceptance of my courting gift?”

“Yes, you twat.”

John hands him the Identification Screen and Brian takes it. A profile is already pulled up.

Designation: Brimi Deacon

Spouse: J. Deacon

Occupation: Trader

He looks at John.

“Your non-princely name,” John says, “we can change it, but spaceports don’t stop Official Spouses.”

“My people, we need the ceremony,” Brian looks away.

Oh how desperately he wants that ceremony.

“One day.”

John grabs his hands, “I swear it. When it is less of a way to keep us from being separated.”

“It’ll always be that.”

Brian frowns. He doesn’t trust that his father won’t respect the ceremony.

“But it will also be because I love you. Can’t we bond to each other like your people?”

John grimaces, “that’s permanent, Bri. Maybe when you’re certain and it isn’t just because I’m your freedom.”

“You’re my golden shine,” Brian leans into John, “but we are a certainty.”

“And I couldn’t be happier.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: Misunderstanding

The plan is simple. John figures that the less there is to go wrong, the few elements that they do have can go very wrong. Roger assure him that everything will work out. He might accuse Roger of not understanding what is at stake if they weren’t in such a similar situation.

“Okay, John?”

He nods, “I’ll be better once this works.”

“Don’t worry, the force field is only strong enough to kill everything but you!”

John grimaces. The guard passes, slamming something against the door. John sees a moment later that it was a baton. The force field brightens. A count of forty to get them in the clear and then a count of one-hundred and twenty for the shield to malfunction. John prays that they use the standard prison equipment.

“Forty,” Roger says.

John presses his hands against the shield. They warm. Sparks snap at his wrists and the shield goes even brighter. John jumps involuntarily. His hands warming even more but he doesn’t remove them. He bites his tongue once they pass one-hundred thirty and gags at the smell of something burning.

He knows what’s burning but he can’t think about that now. However long this takes, he will bear it. This is all for Brian.

At one-hundred and forty, the forcefield finally sparks and whines as it vanishes. John staggers backward. Roger catches him, he looks down at his hands. They’re split open with burns. The air makes them tingle. He flexes them, and while it doesn’t hurt (his mind marks that as a Bad Thing), they’re tight and it’s hard.

“Shit,” Roger mumbles.

“We’ve got to move,” John says.

Roger blinks, “yeah. Okay.”

They step out of the stell. John’s hear soars, the air still suffocates him and there is still so much between him and his freedom, but he is a step closer. Roger grins. A few prisoners stare at them in wonder. John doesn’t know why they remain quiet, out of awe or perhaps surprise, but he takes advantage of it and keeps his head ducked towards his chest. Hopefully, they can make the 8540 count they estimated before someone noticed they were gone. Roger keeps his head up.

John bites his lip at the obvious dare. Roger has been here for too long to care, he guesses. They need that boldness.

“Now we need to head down,” Roger says, “or at least feel like we’re going down.”

John steps quicker, “do you know how to co-pilot?”

“In theory. I’ve only flown racers, I can navigate too.”

Well, they will know what they are crashing into at least.

“You!”

Roger and he share a look before sprinting away. They turn down a similar hallway. He hears the feet behind him. Roger pulls them into a room. John barely manages to grip the handle before stopping. They’re in the elevator tunnel.

“Why does it look like a normal door?”

John looks up. There is only one floor above them, and it seems like 400 below them.

“No cameras, he shrugs.

John leaps across the gap, stumbling slightly and grabbing another handle. Roger sighs and closes the door behind them.

“They won’t see us fall to our deaths then.”

The emergency lights click on bathing the shoot in deep red. Roger nibbles on his lip looking around.

“They shut the elevator system off first, so fire can’t catch and tunnel up the rest of the ship. We won’t have to worry about the elevator moving.”

“Great,” Roger says quietly.

“They know we’re gone.”

Roger swallows and looks down against. John takes hold of the ledge and edges towards the ladder. He watches Roger mirror his actions. This prison output must have been missed in the update or they didn’t want to worry about prisoners getting out while the systems were down

“I’ll go first in case you slip.”

“Freddie owes me,” Roger breathes, “so much.”

John snorts as he makes the transition to the ladder, “you mean you aren’t doing this to prove your love and devotion?”

“He knows,” Roger says, “I volunteered to be sent here. They would have killed me in front of him… and I won’t allow that.”

John stares. Roger doesn’t seem to be the meek type, but he hadn’t thought… he must love Freddie deeply, “very noble.”  
“Incredibly dumb.”

Once Roger is holding fast John starts climbing down.

_Tink. Tink. Tink._

* * *

_Tink. Tink. Tink._

His back aches. His hands hurt.

“Don’t stop, Rog.”

“Don’t look down, John.”

_Tink. Tink. Tink._

* * *

_Tink. Tink. Tink._

The elevator passage has finally lost its heat. John sees his breath clouding in front of him. His hands are slick with blood from tearing the burns open further, which freezes as soon as his hand wraps around the rung. Roger shivers above him, his skin bright red and blotchy. They have to use this passage for as long as they can.

_Tink. Tink. Tink._

* * *

_Tink. Tink. Tink._

“Rog,” he calls, his teeth are beginning to chatter, “we need to get out of here.”

He feels too warm and sleepy. His hands are completely torn up, and Roger has slipped for the third time. Not to mention he can see how his heel is starting to purple.

John imagines they’ve been climbing down for hours despite it feeling like an eternity. The search has died down he hopes. At the very least he hopes that they’re on the floor above or below them. He finishes the climb to the next level. He slides his foot over to the ledge. Then he reaches to grab a handle. Then his second foot before he pushes over with his second hand.

He pulls himself tightly to the wall letting out a slight breath. He shimmies over enough to give Roger a space to stand.

“This is insane,” Roger says.

John hums, moving to the access door. Roger is carefully extracting himself from the ladder and once he is off, he presses tightly to the wall. His eyes are tightly pressed together and he is breathing heavily.

“Only a little more.”

Roger nods and creeps towards him. It takes him a few moments but then Roger is stepping over to the access door. John steps out, almost certain that the hallway is clear. It looks like they’re in a clerical wing. John looks around, there is only one way to go.

“Lead on?” John gestures down the path.

“Stars!”

John frowns.

“Your hands,” Roger says.

“Worry about them later,” he shakes his head.

They’re so frozen that he won’t leave a trail of blood. There will be a med-kit on the ship, whether it will be properly stocked is anyone’s guess. Beta-paks will heal it well enough, and most come with two.

“We need to figure out what floor we’re on. I think the ships are on 147.”

“You’re sure?”

“No. But any nearer to the reactors and the ion and pulsar reactions will cause instability,” Roger shrugs.

John vaguely remembers hearing that, but pulsar engines were so new when his father worked in the Imperial Shipyard he doesn’t know anything about them. They start walking when Roger’s shivering starts lessening enough for them to move nearly soundlessly.

“Your feet,” John says.

Roger looks down. Between them is a bloody half-footprint. John curses, how could he have forgotten that Roger didn’t have foot protection? He tears off a strip of his pants. He curls his fingers.

“Up.”

He bites his cheek to fight through the pain of using his hands as he wraps Roger’s foot. It looks like it has been rubbed raw on the ball and arch. From the ladder then. Blood soaks through the light brown fabric quickly. John notices a dark spot on Roger’s angle. A tattoo in the shape of an upside-down L overlapped by a triangle. A son of Letharzus.

No wonder, despite the deal made, Roger wouldn’t have ended up a pleasure slave. The last of a dead planet –

“Yes, yes. Woe is me, but maybe when we’re free.”

John needs, “the other one?”

He rips the fabric off his second pant leg. Roger switches feet with a little wobble, he extends his arms to balance.

“How is that?”

“Good enough to worry about later.”

They miraculously made it to the docking bay without spotting another soul spotting them. John can hear murmuring from further away. It looks like their luck is about to run out. He peeks out of around a corner. The docking bay is the cold of space as well. They’ll need to move quickly.

“There!” Roger whispers, “that shuttle!”

He looks to where Roger is pointing. It looks like it was confiscated nearly seventy-five years ago, judging by the shape of the boosters. Everything else is newer, but he doesn’t trust that he would know how to fly it or that they wouldn’t be found almost immediately.

“Transport will leave soon.”

John nods to the large ship, there is a low hum to it.

“Is that one light speed or transwarp capable?”

“Light at least,” John says, “there’s nothing else we can steal.”

Roger glances around the bay again. Everything else will have imperial Tags or Merca Keys, even though they would be guaranteed to work.

“Okay.”

They move against the wall. All droids are focused on cargo or the few prisoners chained up and kneeling by the loading ramp. Six of them in total, all dressed up in plain gray clothes and two of them look like they’re begging.

_Spacing is a terrible way to go, _John shivers.

Roger grabs the edge of his tunic before he steps out of their cover to move to the ship. A surveillance droid whizzes by.

“Thanks.”

“It’s both of our hides.”

They glance towards the transport. The bay doors creak as they begin to close. A loud alarm echoes through the port.

“Launch will initiate in 900. Please enter your ship or vacate to the safety areas.”

“Now or never,” John says.

They run to the ship, which in standard fashion is left with the loading door open. Roger easily runs past him and jumps into the ship. For a moment John panics thinking this is the betrayal he foolishly thought wouldn’t happen. He leaps into the ship and Roger steadies him.

He blinks, “thanks.”

“Yeah,” Roger smiles, “no we have got to make sure this girl flies.”

John moves to the cockpit. There is a surge-coupling blocking the startup sequence. Roger looks to him in alarm. He shakes his head and looks at the dashboard, there has to be a - there! The secondary power source sends his arm spasming as he grabs the conductor. The metal heats up in his hands, searing the damaged flesh further with a twist and a pull, the conductor is off and the surge-coupling around the engine computer whines before shutting off.

“Launch will initiate in 600. Please enter your ship or vacate to the safety areas.”

“Well,” Roger says, staring at his hands.

“Can you get the Nav online?”

The main system kicks on, the red lights flicking to bright white. John slides the engine to full and feels the engine rattle on. Red lights flicking off to bright white. The hum reminds him of the one he made for Brian.

_Stay strong, love._

“Launch will initiate in 300. Please enter your ship or vacate to the safety areas.”

Roger glances at him, “Nav is up, the maps are old but it can get us to Alpha One… manual landing though.”

John shrugs. He only needs to press the button now. Then they’ll be on their way.

“Roger on my count.”

“Aye.”

Roger takes his spot and John grabs the steering.

“Opening gate.”

The transport ship lifts up. He lets out a slow breath. His hands ache at the contact and they smear sticky on the hardened handles. The shimmer of the gate fades.

“Now!”

He pulls the steering mechanism back and they’re up and flying. John kicks off the safety throttle they go sideways weaving through the ship and the wall. They’re free.

The radar pings and John just manages to avoid the torpedo. He winces as the ship shakes viciously.

“Coordinates locked,” Roger says, “jump ready.”

He reaches over to the screen, and slides the ion stabilizer over and allows them to make the jump.

“Rog, this is nowhere.”

“They can track us. Didn’t want to lead them right to Alpha One.”

John nods. It’s a fair point. He needs to find the tracker the guards left on the ship before he can even think about getting to Brian. If he doesn’t, he wasted energy and pain to only end up exactly where they had been. The next time, John knows, they won’t be nice enough to only toss him in a cell.

“How long?”

“We’ll get there on the last day.”

John prays to the stars that there is no delay.

* * *

Somehow the stars heard him.

“C’mon, c’mon.”

The radio crackles to life, “Dwack 584.”

“Crystal,” Roger says.

“Roger?”

“The one and the same.”

“How are you – what are you – I thought that – What do you need?”

Roger sends John a toothy smile along with the, _I told you so. _John raises his hands. He hadn’t thought a year old unused channel wouldn’t work or be answered. Apparently, Crystal is more loyal than he thought.

“Listen, we’re going to be coming into Alpha One space soon, and we’ll need some cover.”

“You got it, I’ll send you coordinates for the back.”

“Thank you.”

“It’ll be good to see you again.”

* * *

John stares up at the palace. Peaks of lavender stone reach up into the sky. The flag of the Alphas flutters loudly. He waits for Roger to wave him forward, which happens soon enough. A man dressed in Merca fabrics stands with his arms crossed in front of them.

“Crystal,” Roger smiles.

They embrace and he claps him on the back. Roger leans back and holds him at arm's length.

“Roger,” Crystal says softly then he grins, “you owe me.”

“About a dozen now,” Roger says.

Crystal stands back and rummages around in his bag and pulls out two fabric bundles. Roger takes it and opens it out. It looks like a servant uniform, white with pale purple embroidery. John takes the offered uniform. His hand bends awkwardly around the bandages to grip the fabric. They’re healing but outdated beta-paks only do so much.

“Well, I’m good for it,” he replies.

Crystal nods, “his highness has missed you. The palace is far too quiet.”

John bites his lip. The closing ceremony will start soon. He can almost taste Brian’s distress. It is such a heavy feeling. What is happening to his Brimi?

“We’ll catch up later! Don’t get caught.”

Crystal opens his arms wide, “I’m just a valet, you’re the one that can’t get caught.”

“We won’t or if we do, I’ll just cause a scene.”

John starts walking. He pulls the servant robe on. He is careful to tie it in Merca fashion. It's clumsy but passable. Roger jogs to catch up. His robe is immaculate.

“Careful, you don’t know where to go.”

“I do. I feel him.”

John never properly tied them together, but a bond of friendship had always been enough for him. So long as he could feel Brian, he was happy.

“John, we need a plan. Information. We’re too close to be reckless.”

Some of Brian’s distress has ebbed away. He feels in the back of his mind, as well as something actively soothing it. Roger is right, they have too much to lose now.

“Okay.”

“We need to get to one of the ballrooms. Figure out the main one.”

“You two! What are you – Roger?”

John spins prepared to fight. The speaker is a guard. He is around Brian’s age and looks like he is from Sorix too. The man is probably an Imperial guard. Roger’s eyes are narrowed.

“Jobby?”

He glances at Roger who is squinting. The ground raises his hands, showing his that his blaster is sheathed.

“How are you here?” Jobby asks.

Roger shrugs, “doesn’t matter so much.”

John glances around. There is an old blade mounted on the wall. Not ideal for a blaster fight, but if it comes down to it, he shrugs. Jobby keeps his hands up.

“No, I supposed not,” Jobby frowns, “you’re here for prince Freddie.”

Roger nods, “do you know where he is?”

“Can we trust him?” John whispers.

“You’re _the_ smuggler,” Jobby says.

John doesn’t wince outwardly. The term smuggler is a loaded one at any place in the galaxy. It is only that much worse when it comes from an Imperial guard. Roger glances at him.

“Thank the stars,” he says.

“What?” John blinks

“Follow me.”

“Hang on.”

Roger places a hand on his shoulder. John leans into it briefly before shrugging it off. He keeps his eyes towards Jobby, scanning for any other guards. He wants to know if this is a trap. Roger seems at ease.

“We can trust Jobby, he is loyal to Brian.”

John swallows. He wants to know how loyal. Clearly there is loyalty, otherwise, he would have already raised the alarm that they’re here. Then again Jobby could be leading them into a trap. He doesn’t remember Brain saying anything about a man called Jobby. Not that Brian frequently mentioned anything about his time in the palace.

But the statement calms him enough to follow slowly. If nothing else, he trusts Roger's judgment but there is no telling if Jobby could have been bought off in the time Brian had been gone. As Jobby leads them through the palace, he feels Brian’s presence getting stronger so for now it relaxes him. As soon as it gets fainter, John will act. He tries to keep his awe at the palace tucked inside of him.

When he and Brian were back on that moon, he could never go into the palace beyond Brian’s room. He frankly doesn’t want to know what that palace looked like. His mind has made it into a dark and cold place. Shadowed. Everything that Brian hates.

John hears the music first. There are murmurs in many different languages. Two heavy doors are open enough that most species can enter with ease. His pulse quickens as he feels Brian’s presence, its strung with nervousness and tinged with sadness but it’s strong and alive. He heaves a sigh of relief. At least he is healthy.

Roger grips him when he takes a step forward., “maybe we should wait until they go back to their rooms?  
He shakes his head. As much he wants to, he can’t. They would turn him in immediately.

“Agreed,” Jobby says.

He looks back towards the room, Roger’s grip tightens, “they’ll arrest you.”

John _knows. _He steps back but closes his eyes and basks in Brian’s gentle presence. The nerves spike and Roger’s grip tightens.

“Announcing the betrothal of the Prince of Merca, Freddie Mercury, and Prince of the Solarix Empirem Brian May.

What?

He glances back at Roger. His blue eyes are trained on the door and his mouth parted. John feels like staying on Moth 9C would have been a kinder fate. Why would Brian? How could Brian? He could want Brian to move on after his death of course, but not so soon. His chest hurts and he stumbles back.

Roger grabs him once more, the color returning to his face though his voice is shaky when he speaks.

“Let’s,” Roger breathes in, “let’s see what they have to say first.”

John doesn’t want to listen to Brian rattle apologies off, that he found someone better: a prince and a man that give him freedom. He can’t compete with that. Won’t.

Maybe he will go, just so Brian knows he is alive and won’t carry the guilt with him. Roger watches him.

“You have to trust Brimi.”

_Did he call him Brimi? _John shakes his head, “I’ll talk to him.”

Roger nods, “yeah. I’m sure – I know there is a reason.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always leave your thoughts and comments below or come talk to me on tumblr!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Proposal

Brian pulls off the last of his jewelry and tosses it onto the table. Freddie is much more delicate with his. He drops back to the bed. He is exhausted from being paraded around. His father had been thrilled at least.

“That went well enough,” Freddie sighs.

“We survived,” Brian grunts.

Freddie clicks his tongue, “careful, you might offend me. We’re meant to be married.”

Brian groans. Freddie laughs. There is a knock on the door. Brian shakes his head. He can’t deal with anyone else now. Not another servant or a well-wisher especially. He sits up and rolls his eyes when he sees Freddie opening the door. He tugs on his curls to try and tame them down. The door swings open.

He spots Roger’s brilliant blue eyes. Freddie gasps before throwing himself into the blond’s arms. Brian smiles. Relieved that Roger is healthy and free, but he doesn’t understand how.

“Hello, my sun.”

“My prince,” Roger says.

He bends down and kisses the back of Freddie’s hand. Brian’s smile falls. Someone pushes past them and Brian stands up. Brian looks at the newcomer and falls back to the bed. The air is stolen from his lungs. John is slack-jawed and has fading bruise on his cheek. Brian’s arms shake as he pushes himself up and into John’s arms.

“John,” he breathes.

Brian sobs and presses his face into John’s neck. He smells awful, like sweat and a de-con shower, but it’s John. He is warm and alive and _here._

He leans back when John’s grip isn’t as tight. Freddie and Roger have already left. Brian watches John’s face and his eyes flick across his face.

“Brian,” John murmurs, “are you okay?”

He rolls his eyes, “shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

There is a pause, “are you okay?”

“Alive.

“What’s wrong?”

John bites his lip before sighing, “you’re marrying Freddie.”

Brian’s eyes widen and then shake his head. A watery laugh is forced out of him. He raises his hands to John’s face. Golden light catches on the gray. He smiles.

“Only to avoid marrying anyone else,” Brian whispers

John looks away and then presses his forehead to Brian’s.

“Bri…” John presses his forehead to Brian’s.

More light fills the space between them. Brian had missed seeing it. The orange from Freddie is close, but not it.

“John,” Brian says, “bond with me.”

John stares, “but that’s – you won’t be happy marrying Freddie.”

Brian rolls his eyes, “John. I don’t want to marry Freddie.”

He feels John press into him and closes his eyes. Brian reaches up and grips John’s hair. They sway together. He still feels the tension. Brian knows he hadn’t meant it, but now he is worried that John isn’t going to believe him.

What if after everything he still loses John?

“Brian, will you marry me?”

“Of course.”

John kisses him. The gold light hits John’s lips. Brian reaches one hand over and places it on John’s cheek. He feels John lean into his touch. Everything feels better. They’re together. The fear he is feeling slowly ebbing out.

“Bond with me?” He asks again.

No one would dare break a bonded pair apart. Even beyond that, Brian wants to be bonded to John. He wants nothing more. John’s face wrinkles and he shakes his head. Brian folds his fingers into the soft of John’s cheeks.

“Brian.”

Brian moves his hand so that his fingers are under John’s chin and lifts it, “open your eyes.”

John does, his eyes shimmer. He surges up and presses their lips together. Brian moans at the contact. It’s been so long since they’ve had this. Even before they were separated, they were fighting. It feels stupid now, whatever they had been arguing about doesn’t matter. He deepens the kiss and John’s hands coast gently into his hair.

There is a slight tightening of John’s lips and Brian pulls back, “John?”

“Sorry,” he murmurs, “my hands.”

Brian pulls back and steps away grabbing John’s arms and bringing them to his eyes. They’re wrapped with gauze and smell like beta-paks. John looks away.

“What happened?”

“Doesn’t matter,” John says, “I’m here.”

“John.”

John kisses him again, “no. I’ll tell you, but not right now.”

Brian bites his lip. He believes John but he hates seeing him in plain.

“I wish I could be more help. I just want to be with you. I want to feel you.”

He kisses him again. John responds; keeping his hands away from Brian this time. He wants that too. That connection.

“Do we need them to bond?”

John stares, “Brian.”

“I’m serious John I want this badly.”

John leans his forehead against Brian’s shoulder. They start swaying again. He smiles in relief at the golden light that fills the room. Brian kisses the crown of John’s head.

“There are some things we can still do,” Brian whispers.

John looks up with a slight smile.

“Oh, yeah?”

Brian kisses him on the lips, “yeah.”

He drags John backward twisting them around and pushing him to the bed. John kisses him as Brian sinks to his knees in front of him. Brian smiles, he misses the slight vibration from the ship that he feels whenever they did this before. Brian kisses John’s thigh looking up.

“Is this okay?”

“Always,” John smiles.

He reaches up and undoes the clasp of John's pants. Brian nudges John and he lifts his hips up and Brian pulls down. He kisses John’s thighs all the way down to his knees then back up again. John is surprisingly hard from his gentle administrations.

“Excited?”

“S’been too long,” John hums.

Brian kisses the crease of his hips, “yeah? Just not me?”

“It helps that it is you.”

Brian kisses the head of John’s prick before stroking it to full hardness. Once there he takes it into his mouth and sucks. John bucks and Brian relaxes his throat slightly. He hums around it before he feels John’s hand cup his hair. John sighs and he looks up to see John’s head tilted back in pleasure.

He pulls off and blows air onto the tip before looking up again. John smiles at him. John’s hand leaving the back of his head to ghost down his cheek. Brian presses his lip to the tip of his fingers. He rolls John’s balls in his palms for a few moments before moving away from them.

“I love you,” Brian says.

“I love you.”

Brian goes back down working John’s prick. He licks the vein on the underside. John sighs and groans. His nose bumps against the space right above the base. He works it a little more before John is guiding his head back. He swipes the spit from the corner of his mouth.

“Was I…?”

John shakes his head and pulls Brian up so their lips meet. Brian allows John to press in and take control it. He feels himself being guided down towards the bed, John crawling on top of him bracing himself on his arms and keeping the kiss connection.

“Your hands,” Brian gasps.

“Don’t care, need to feel you.”

Brian bites his lip. John pulls back and John’s stomach is lit up with gold. He smiles and sees how it is reflected on John’s face. It makes him giddy to see it again.

“I love you,” John kisses him under his eye.

“Let me do the work, love?”

“Okay.”

They switch positions again and Brian wiggles off of him, untying his pants tossing them to the sigh. and reaches for the lube pak. John quirks his eyebrow.

“Waiting for something?”

Brian shakes his head, “they just assume what betrothed couples do.”

John kisses his lips again, “we’re betrothed.”

“Fair enough.”

He tears the lube pak and squirts a generous amount on his hands working them on his fingers. John rolls over and guides one finger down the swirls of blue coating them in yellow light. Brian leans back against the pillow and slips a single finger in. He sighs and closes his eyes. John groans appreciatively.

It breaches the ring of muscle before. Brian bites his lip and pushes down on himself. He curls his finger and moans when he feels it brush against that spot. Brian opens his eyes to catch John’s before winking. He slows his pace to give John enough of a show since he can’t participate fully. The touches make his skin bump.

“Add another.”

His eyes roll back in his head before he slips a second one inside scissoring and twisting. He picks his pace up now that his dick is bobbing against his stomach.

“Slow down.”

John’s sharp voice sends his ministration to a crawl. He keeps pushing down on them, but he isn’t desperately seeking his own completion now. John’s finger continues to follow the swirls making sure that there is no evidence of the blue lines of royalty. Brian smiles.

After a few more torturously slow moments John moves to kiss his knee.

“Add a third.”

Brian complies and once more his pace starts picking up as he feels the burn in his belly. He swears it comes directly from John’s gaze. The gray eyes following his fingers as they disappear into him. Brian twists his wrist and arches his back as he hits that spot again. He spreads his legs further. John moves closer, wiggling into the space. He kisses Brian’s thigh, up and towards his hip.

“You good?”

“Mm,” Brian nods.

John sucks a bruise onto his thigh and then another. Brian curls his fingers inside of him. He moans and John switches thighs, this time adding a slight nip to it.

“Ready for me love?”

Brian rolls his head forward and grins, “always.”

John kisses each bruise, “I’m going to lean back.”

He crawls on top of John sparring a glance to the bandaged hands. John follows his gaze and clicks his tongue. Brian adjusts himself just raking his eyes over John. There aren’t any drastic changes on John’s face. It hasn’t been that long, but John looks exhausted. He bends down to mouth at a spot on John’s stomach.

Brian smiles as he grabs John’s prick he lather it with the remainder of the lube on his fingers. He tilts his head and decides that it isn’t enough. John rests a hand on his thigh gently as Brian reaches behind him to grab the pak again. The remainder goes back on his hand and he warms it before pumping up on John’s prick gently.

“Stars, Bri,” John breathes, “I missed you.”

“Gonna remind you how good this is.”

He adjusts himself once more before holding himself above John’s prick. Two gauzed hands wrap around his hips, there’s no pressure but he knows John is willing to help. Brian sinks down, slowly. John groans and he sighs happily as he finally feels John bottom out. He closes his eyes at the soft thrusts John is doing. Once fully seated he bends down as John leans up. They kiss slowly.

The golden light makes him smile again. John kisses him again. Brian gently pushes him back and starts raising himself up. He moves slowly taking his time. John skims his finger up John’s thigh rubbing a thumb over the head of Brian’s cock before trailing it down towards his balls. He keeps the touch light and Brian sighs happily.

He tightens around John and raises up.

“John,” he moans.

John bucks up, going deeper. He groans and drops down as John goes up. He smiles as they fall into a rhythm together. John grabs his hand and kisses it as they rock together. There is no urgency in their moves. Brian thinks about how close this is to having sex on their ship. It is quieter.

For once he doesn’t feel the urge to look away because he is overwhelmed.

“Move, Bri, c’mon.”

Brian picks up the pace and soon the only sounds in the room are sighs and gasps and groans from the bed. He can tell that John wants to roll them over. Brian goes faster despite the trembling in his legs and moves faster.

Eventually John manages to work enough of his unbandaged hand around Brian’s cock. After a few strokes and John angling his hips Brian is coming over their stomachs. John follows after only a few more moments. Brian collapses on top of John with a breathy sigh.

“I missed you.”

He kisses the spot right about John’s heart. They should probably move but for now he is thrilled with the contact that they are sharing now. John’s hand is in his hair, his fingers picking at a curl.

“How are your hands?”

“They hurt,” John says, “but we can deal with in a bit. Do you have a medkit in your bathroom?”

“Think so.”

John hums.

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

He catches John’s eyes as his face is guided to his. They’re serious, “I would have done everything in my power, I did, to get to you.”

Brian strokes under his eye, “I know. I know.”

John kisses him. This time it is filled with the edge of desperation that Brian had originally expected. He moves enough that John slips from him, he whines at the sticky feeling before they’re rolled over. John kisses along his neck and Brian closes his eyes.

“I didn’t want to die thinking that I accepted this. That I would have left you to rot here.”

Brian grips his head, “I wouldn’t have thought that.”

John raises an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry.”

John shakes his head. Brian bites his lip. This is his last-ditch. Tomorrow they’re going to be confronted with guards and royals and he knows that they aren’t going to let him walk out of here because he says he is. His father won’t at least.

“John, I thought that your people bonded quickly.”

“We do,” John says, “I should have.”

“Mm, yeah,” Brian says.

John laughs, “being cheeky?”

Brian bats his eyes. John laughs and noses at Brian’s neck. He mouths at the skin there. Brian raises his hands and plays with the ends of John’s hair. John kisses his neck.

“Let’s bond.”

He grins, “now?”

John shrugs, “should be easy now.”

Brian sits up, “how do we do it?”

John kisses him once more before sitting up and coasting up his ribs. Brian grabs his wrists and rubs his thumb along the back of his hand feeling the rough texture of the gauze. John’s fingers tap a flighty rhythm on his sternum. Brian feels his chest tighten the longer John takes to answer. Is it something that horrible or worse John had only said that to appease him and now is regretting it?

“You’re going to have to let me in,” John says, “fully.”

Brian nods, “yeah.”

John grips Brian’s face. One hand going down to his neck thumbing that muscle on his neck. Brian relaxes. He feels John gently nudging at his mind. They’ve done this a few times, not bonding, but it adds something to sex. Brian feels the nudge increase in pressure and he tries to lower his walls as John taught him to. The pressure changes into a warm embrace and Brian sinks into that.

“That’s it,” John mumbles.

It’s strange because John is in control of this. He has no physic traits, but he feels it vividly the way John keeps wrapping their essences together. John’s sparking aura twisting with his – and now he can feel his aura – cool smooth aura. Brian blinks and he feels like two people. John’s aura sliding next to his. They sink together.

Brian stares at him. He feels excited, but he feels his own excrement too. John is buzzing and it makes his skin itch.

“That’s it?”

“It will take a couple of days to settle,” John kisses his cheek.

Brian feels his love double, but it isn’t just his own. He rubs his chest and John catches his hand.

“How is it?”

He leans up and kisses John. John kisses back.

“That good, huh?” John grins.

“This is perfect,” Brian

John brings their foreheads together; golden light completely fills the room. When Brian peeks out of their little world. The first sun is creeping over the horizon. Brian smiles and presses his lips back to John. They’re together and everything is murky but as he feels John responds to his joy he decides that this is all he ever wants. John and whatever is going to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always leave your thoughts and comments below or come talk to me on tumblr!
> 
> (I might at a later date add the last three chapters, because ofc now is when I have ideas for them)

**Author's Note:**

> There we have it!  
As always, leave your thoughts and comments below or come talk to me on tumblr!!


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